A Hundred Ways to Die in New Orleans
by Chiemseekatze
Summary: Sam and Dean take a hunt in New Orleans - but things don't go exactly as planned.


**I was on holiday with my best friend and we were complaining that there aren't nearly enough Supernatural x Originals crossovers. So this is our attempt at one.**

 **It's set sometime after Supernatural 13x05 and has some tiny weeny spoilers about what happens to Death. It picks up after Originals 3x01, where Elijah kills all those poor hunters. (youtube /watch?v=68wvUA8Y4Bk from 1:35 to 2:45 and 4:20 to 5:15 if anyone wants to rewatch it)**

 **Really just a silly little oneshot, but I hope you enjoy it! Let us know what you think!  
**

* * *

 **A hundred ways to die in New Orleans**

 _Confused, Sam opened his eyes. He was lying on a clear patch of grass, the smell of smoke in his nose. When he remembered what had happened, he carefully moved his head. It seemed to be attached to his body again. Good._

" _Did you see what they did to my baby?!" he suddenly heard Dean shout, enraged. "The seats are swimming in blood, I'll never get out the stains! I'll have to get completely new seats! And then after ripping off my head they didn't even have the decency to stop her from crashing into that tree!" Dean fumed, as he was inspecting the damage on the Impala. Sam slowly got up from his spot on the ground and sighed. Dean really needed to get his priorities straight!_

" _Okay, that's it. This was the last straw! I'm so going to kill them now! Nobody hurts my baby and lives!" Dean declared and Sam sceptically raised an eyebrow._

" _Isn't that what we've been trying to do for days?"_

* * *

A few days earlier:

"Hey Jody, what's up?" Dean asked her through a mouthful of apple pie and put the phone on speaker.

"I might have a job for you. I know a group of hunters who pose as animal control to hunt werewolves. They apparently took a job in New Orleans and last night their hunt went wrong and most of them got killed. The only survivor, Gary, asked me for help, but Alex is going through some stuff at work right now and I don't want to leave her alone..." she trailed off, but Dean was already beaming.

"Say no more, Jody. We will check it out. That's exactly what I need right now. A really nice, simple, silver-bullet-to-the-chest hunt. Man do I love werewolves!"

…

Two days later, Sam, Dean, and Gary were sitting at a secluded table in Roussaud's, a bar in New Orleans.

"Okay, Gary, what happened?" Sam started the conversation and Gary hesitantly began to explain.

"Well, we got hired by this company, Kingmaker Land Development, to clear the swamp of all the werewolves living there. We were well prepared, had a dozen men, all armed with rifles and silver ammunition. But our boss never showed up that night at the meeting point and then we suddenly heard Rob scream. So we went to check it out. There was this weird guy, in his fancy suit and… he just started killing everyone. I was at the back of the group, a bit behind to watch our backs and when I saw what was happening, I… I just ran away." Gary admitted embarrassed and looked to the floor. Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's not your fault. You did the right thing, calling for backup." he tried to comfort Gary, despite the disgusted glance Dean threw him, that clearly showed he didn't agree at all.

"And that guy was one of the werewolves you were hunting?" Dean questioned Gary.

"Well, yeah, sure. The Bayou is full of werewolves and that guy clearly wasn't human." Gary explained and Sam quickly checked his calendar.

"That night was a full moon. It fits perfectly. Can you describe the man a bit? Was there anything special about him?"

Gary thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"I would recognize him if I saw him again, but there wasn't really anything standing out about him. Well, other of course than that he was wearing a suit in the fucking swamp. I mean, who the hell does that?!" Gary exclaimed. He was interrupted by the blond barkeeper bringing over their food. She had apparently overheard the last sentence and seemed amused.

"Wearing a suit in the Bayou? That must have been Elijah." she laughed and Dean quickly took the opportunity.

"Elijah? So you know him?" he asked her.

"Yes, he's the brother of a good friend of mine. Why?" the barkeeper seemed suspicious now.

"Well..." Dean threw a glance at her name tag "... Camille, right? My friend Gary here took a walk in the swamp yesterday, when his dog ripped free and sprang up at Elijah, getting his suit all muddy. Gary was too busy chasing after his dog to get his contact info, but he would really like to apologize and reimburse him for the dry-cleaning. Could you tell us his address?" Dean asked and looked at her with his sweetest smile.

"Sure." she grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled directions on it. "I wouldn't worry about it too much though, they are loaded." Camille reassured Gary, gave him the paper and went back to the bar.

"Checkmate!" Dean grinned and took a big bite of his burger.

…

At three o'clock that afternoon Sam, Dean and Gary were standing in front of the Mikaelsons' house and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a dark-haired man in a suit opened the door.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you?" he asked politely and Sam smiled at him.

"Are you Elijah Mikaelson? We would like to talk to you. Could we come inside?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow and looked at them critically. Wordlessly he opened the door wider and gestured for them to enter.

They stepped into a small courtyard and Sam and Dean looked questioningly at Gary. He quickly nodded to confirm this was indeed the person they had been looking for and when Elijah Mikaelson turned towards them, all three raised their guns, aimed at his chest and fired.

…

Klaus was upstairs, painting peacefully, when he was suddenly disturbed by three loud gunshots, followed by someone cheering. Panic rushed through him, those shots had been in the compound! Then he remembered that Freya had taken Hope to the park and that only him and Elijah were home. For a moment he was tempted to just continue painting and letting his brother deal with his own problems. But he didn't want whoever just shot Elijah to start snooping around, so he figured he would quickly kill them and then get back to his painting.

He flashed downstairs and, like expected, saw his brother lying on the ground, dead for the moment. Around him were three men, guns in their hands, laughing and high-fiving each other. Klaus sighed. Why did he always have to clean up after his way-too-trusting siblings?!

Before the men could react he had broken all of their necks. Then he called Francis, a local undertaker, who made some extra money by putting additional bodies in his graves, no questions asked.

…

Slowly blinking, Dean opened his eyes. It was dark around him and the floor was vibrating. Carefully he stretched his hand out and felt something solid around him. After feeling around, he concluded that he was lying in a coffin. Great. Digging himself out of the ground wasn't exactly his favourite pass-time activity! But when the coffin suddenly slid a few inches to the right, he realized he was in the back of a van, not six feet under. Such welcome news!

Using both his hands, he pushed the top up and down the coffin, so he could sit up. He looked around and noticed two more coffins next to his. From one of them he could hear sounds and then the top opened and Sam scowled at him.

"What did Billy mean 'good luck trying to kill the Mikaelsons'?" he wondered and Dean scoffed.

"I don't know man, but she was way too smug for my taste." he grumbled. Billy being the new Death was still annoying him to no end. The old Death would have brought them back with much less teasing. But then again, Dean shouldn't really complain. After all, he was the one responsible that there even was a new Death… He was ripped out of his thoughts by Sam.

"Anyway, since Billy brought us back to 'try and finish the job' I guess it isn't over yet and Elijah Mikaelson was just one werewolf in a bigger pack." he mused and Dean snorted.

"No kidding! I guess we should probably put some silver bullets into the guy who just snapped our necks. But first let's give Gary a proper hunter's funeral." Dean added grumbling, throwing a sad look at the third coffin.

…

Elijah woke up in the middle of the courtyard and looked around. The yard was empty, no sign of the three men who had shot him. Remembering this incident, he looked down on himself and sighed annoyed. His shirt and jacket had been shot through and were covered in blood. _Fantastic._

After getting changed, he decided to pay a visit to his brother to find out what had happened to the men. He knocked and entered Klaus's room and found his brother painting passionately. At Elijah's entrance, however, he put his paintbrush away and turned around.

"Good morning, brother! Did you have a good nap?" Klaus greeted Elijah, smirking amused.

"Oh yes, it was very restful, thank you very much. Not exactly how I had envisioned my afternoon to go, though." Elijah replied dryly. "You wouldn't happen to know what has happened to those three gentlemen, would you?"

"Oh, of course I know. I snapped their necks and they are currently on the way to the cemetery. Why? Were they friends of yours?" Klaus teased and Elijah's face darkened.

"No, in fact, I had never even seen them before this afternoon." Elijah answered thoughtfully.

"And they just came in here and shot you? How rude." Klaus laughed and went to his desk. "This is what they shot you with." he explained and threw one of the guns to Elijah, who caught it easily and examined it. It seemed like a normal gun.

"They are loaded with silver bullets. Any explanation for that?" Klaus asked and Elijah groaned.

"They must have been friends of those werewolf hunters I killed two days ago." Elijah explained and Klaus looked at him curiously.

"You killed a group of werewolf hunters?" then he shrugged. "Well, I took care of them and doubt they will bother us again, but if any more of them show up here y-"

Klaus was interrupted as the door suddenly flew open and in came two of the men he had killed less than an hour ago. They had guns pointed at him, but froze when they saw Elijah.

Elijah was the first to recover from the shock and speak.

"Good afternoon, again, gentlemen. To what do we owe the pleasure?" he smiled at them politely. Maybe there was still a chance to deal with the situation like civilized people. For some reason, however, they now only stared at him even more confused. Not one to be discouraged so easily, he decided introductions were in order.

"My name is Elijah Mikaelson and this is my brother Niklaus." he told them and offered his hand. Usually he would have also got them a drink, but he didn't want to turn his back on them just now.

Still the two men were just looking at him unbelievingly. How were they even here in the first place? Hadn't Niklaus said he took care of it? It wasn't like him to be so sloppy.

Finally the taller one of the men seemed to remember his manners and tentatively replied.

"Sam… and that's my brother Dean. Pleasure to -" he was interrupted by the other man – apparently called Dean.

"Sam! What the hell, man?! What are you doing getting all friendly with some werewolf-zombie?!" he stopped him and turned to Elijah, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You're supposed to be dead!"

Now Klaus finally decided to join in the conversation.

"So are you two! I broke your necks just an hour ago!" he shouted, clearly angry at his failure to properly get rid of this nuisance and Elijah sighed. So much for the civilized conversation.

Dean had raised his gun again and was pointing it straight at Klaus now. Quickly, Sam followed his brother's example and aimed at Elijah. Elijah supposed they could easily disarm and kill them both, but what was the point? Killing the other hunters had apparently only brought more of them here and the problem would solve itself much more easily by just letting them believe Klaus and Elijah were dead. They weren't any threat with their silver bullets anyway.

He heard a gunshot, followed by Dean cheering "Headshot!" and then a second shot, as Sam fired at him. He sighed annoyed. His day had started so promising! Well, on the plus side, at least this time there would not be any holes in his suit.

…

Dean watched the two bodies in front of them suspiciously for a moment. Both had a hole in their foreheads and big blood puddles were forming on the expensive looking carpet under them. Dean smirked.

When they still hadn't shown any signs of life after a minute, Dean put his gun back in his belt.

"Well, looks as if the werewolf-zombies are dead." he stated satisfied and turned to Sam. Sam still didn't look convinced.

"Dean, I don't think there are such things as werewolf-zombies. I don't know how that Elijah guy came back to life earlier, but I doubt it makes any difference that we shot them in the head this time. How about we salt and burn them, just to be safe?" Sam suggested and Dean looked at him incredulously.

"Really, Sammy? After all we've seen, dragons, angels, Jefferson Starships… you don't believe in werewolf-zombies? But okay, salting and burning them can't hurt."

Five minutes later, the bodies of the two Mikaelson brothers were lying side by side in the courtyard, both sprinkled with a pound of salt and soaked in petrol. Dean dropped his lighter on Klaus and immediately the petrol caught fire. They watched the flames for a few moments, but when they died down, Dean frowned.

"Do you see that? What is happening?" Sam asked him confused. The bodies weren't gone, they weren't even damaged very much… And now that the fire had stopped, the burns on their faces and arms seemed to be healing. Soon they were back to normal. Still dead of course, but no signs of burns anywhere. _Strange._

"Okay. I'll go and get the flamethrower then." Dean exclaimed excitedly. It had been ages since he last used it.

…

When Klaus awoke, the smell of smoke immediately attacked his sensible nose. It was also unusually warm. If they had burned down the house, he was going to kill them! His eyes flew open.

Luckily for them, they had apparently dragged him and Elijah out into the courtyard first, before trying to set them on fire. He relaxed slightly. Then he glared at the smaller hunter, who was standing over him with a flamethrower. Dean gulped when he saw that he had opened his eyes. Klaus grinned evilly.

However, it was Elijah who spoke first.

"Splendid. You ruined another one of my suits!" he accused them dryly. Klaus chuckled.

"I'm sure your suits will one day be the reason we go bankrupt." Klaus joked and then added grinningly: "I'm quite peckish, brother. What do you think of a nice little snack?" he suggested and Elijah smirked.

"Well, since they came here so willingly, it would be a shame to let them go to waste. Bon appetit, brother." he agreed and they both jumped at the brothers.

As he was sucking at Dean's neck, Klaus just hoped they would stay dead this time. He had better things to do!

…

Sam was waiting patiently for Billy to stop laughing.

"You could have told us last time that they're vampires." he complained. Their mistake had become quite obvious when Elijah had suddenly started giving him a very painful hickey! However, that still didn't fully explain why they didn't burn.

Billy chuckled again. "Where would be the fun in that? The reapers are having the time of their lives watching you and the Mikaelsons trying to kill each other. We're having bets on who dies next." she explained, still grinning, and Dean threw her a dark look. Sam was still puzzled.

"Don't get me wrong, we really appreciate you bringing us back to life, but why are you doing it?" he asked her carefully. She wasn't exactly their biggest fan. Billy's face fell a bit.

"Let's just say they are an even bigger thorn in my eye than you are. Their ability to evade death is getting on my nerves. And don't even get me started on their mother..." she trailed off.

A blink of an eye later, Sam and Dean woke up in the back of a familiar van.

"Well, at least this time we know that we need to cut off their heads." Dean stated relieved while climbing out of his coffin. Sam wasn't so sure about that.

…

"Okay, Sammy, tell me again why we're driving around with two heads on the backseat?" Dean asked, annoyed, and gestured to the two boxes. Sam sighed.

"I told you, it's just to be on the safe side. Billy found everything way too amusing. It can't be that easy." Sam explained again, exasperated. "Let's just take them with us for a while and then bury them somewhere far away from their bodies."

"Well, at least those ones don't talk." Dean agreed, remembering the Leviathans with a shudder.

"Don't we?" a quiet voice suddenly whispered in his ear and Dean flinched and tried to turn around in a panic. But it was too late. Klaus already had his head in a tight grip.

…

Confused, Sam opened his eyes. He was lying on a clear patch of grass, the smell of smoke in his nose. When he remembered what had happened, he carefully moved his head. It seemed to be attached to his body again. Good.

"Did you see what they did to my baby?!" he suddenly heard Dean shout, enraged. "The seats are swimming in blood, I'll never get out the stains! I'll have to get completely new seats! And then after ripping off my head they didn't even have the decency to stop her from crashing into that tree!" Dean fumed, as he was inspecting the damage on the Impala. Sam slowly got up from his spot on the ground and sighed. Dean really needed to get his priorities straight!

"Okay, that's it. This was the last straw! I'm so going to kill them now! Nobody hurts my baby and lives!" Dean declared and Sam sceptically raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't that what we've been trying to do for days?"

* * *

Two weeks later:

Sam watched Dean eat his burger with gusto and sighed. He didn't have much appetite himself. The last two weeks had utterly exhausted him.

"Listen, Dean." he started and waited until his brother had turned his attention away from the blond waitress and was looking at him.

"I know we said we would kill the Mikaelsons, but… I just can't do this anymore. We've been here for weeks, dying at least once a day and we still haven't made any progress." Sam admitted and saw Dean frown. "I'm not even sure what to do next..." he continued.

"We've tried EVERYTHING. We shot them with silver bullets, first in the chest and then in the head. Okay, fair enough, that didn't work because they obviously are neither werewolves nor zombies. But they also wouldn't burn when we set them on fire. Then we cut off their heads and they regenerated from that." Sam recounted their earliest attempts that still had made some sense. Since then their ideas had become increasingly more desperate and ridiculous.

"We've tried everything else we could think of: we staked them, we poisoned them with dead man's blood and werewolf venom, we stabbed them with the demon knife and the angle blade, we buried them in concrete and we dropped a fricking piano on their head." Dean chuckled when Sam reminded him of that, but Sam wasn't amused.

"I really thought we had finally found the solution when we found the lore about the original vampires and daggered them with the silver daggers." Sam admitted. It had taken them nearly a week and several broken necks and ripped out hearts, until they had finally got their hands on the mythical daggers and the white oak ash. "But Klaus still woke up from that and now he has both of the daggers again!" Sam ranted in frustration and then took a big sip from his beer. For a few moments, the two brothers sat in gloomy silence, each contemplating the situation. Suddenly Dean's face lit up and he grinned widely.

"I know the solution!" he exclaimed and when Sam only looked at him sceptically, he explained.

"We need to rebuild the Colt!"

…

Elijah poured himself a drink and then took a seat opposite to Klaus.

"We need to discuss what to do with the two hunters." he stated. At first, the Winchesters had been a nuisance at best, some of their attempts to kill them had even been slightly amusing, although Elijah had still not quite forgiven them for smashing his piano. But their last attempt had hit a bit too close to the mark for Elijah's liking. If they had already found out about the silver daggers, it was only a matter of time until they would start looking for white oak. And while Elijah was quite certain that they had burnt down every white oak tree in the world, he wasn't willing to bet his life on it.

"Yes, the two are getting nearly as annoying as if they were hunters of the Brotherhood." Klaus grumbled and Elijah couldn't agree more. They had briefly considered this possibility, but Klaus was keeping tabs on the Brotherhood of the Five and after a few phone calls he had confirmed that all of the current five were still alive and far away from New Orleans.

"Slowly I start to believe their story that they're friends of Death himself." Elijah admitted. _Herself,_ he silently corrected himself. They had even mentioned a name. _Billy._ It was the only explanation, however unlikely. The two were clearly human and it wasn't a spell that kept them alive – Freya had looked into that. And with how many times Klaus and Elijah had killed them in the last weeks, it just couldn't be mere coincidence any more.

"I know you won't like to hear this, but maybe violence isn't the solution here." Elijah mused and Klaus scoffed.

"You think we should stop killing them? Splendid idea, brother, let's just invite them over for tea and have a talk! I'm sure they're willing to accept a truce." Klaus's voice was dripping with sarcasm. Elijah sighed.

"As much as I would prefer this solution, I agree we're past that point. However, that wasn't what I had in mind." Elijah explained. "We do have an empty dungeon down in the basement, have we not?" he suggested. Klaus was silent for a moment, thinking it through.

"Tempting. But not very clever. The two of them surely have friends, who will come looking for them if they just vanish. And frankly, those two have been enough of a hassle, we don't need any more of their sort." Klaus complained and threw Elijah a dark look. He was still annoyed that his brother had led them to New Orleans in the first place.

"What do you suggest we do then?" Elijah returned to the problem at hand. Klaus's eyes glinted.

"We compel them."

…

On the highway on their way back to the bunker Dean called Jody and put the phone on speaker. She picked up after the second ring.

"Hi Dean, is everything alright?" she asked them worriedly and Sam and Dean exchanged a guilty look. They hadn't talked to her since she sent them to New Orleans.

"Hi Jody. Yes, everything is fine. Just wanted to let you know that we wrapped up that hunt in New Orleans." Dean quickly reassured her and she sighed in relief.

"How did it go?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, it was really easy, like we expected. Just a couple of werewolves." Sam answered happily. He was in a fantastic mood ever since they had left New Orleans.

"Really? What took you so long then?" Jody asked confused. They had been gone for three weeks! Dean shrugged, although he knew she couldn't see it.

"We just stuck around for a while, checking out all the local folklore and rumours. You know, witches, vampires, stuff like that."

"Oh, good thinking! Did you find anything interesting?"

"No, nothing at all! New Orleans is completely supernatural-free." Sam told her. It had come as a bit of a surprise for them considering the many legends.

"Good. I'm glad everything went well. Is Gary doing okay? I tried to reach him, but he doesn't pick up his phone." Jody asked them concerned and Dean frowned, trying to remember. Gary. He knew they had met him, but what then?

"He… I think he left town after we arrived." Sam answered hesitantly and threw Dean an unsure look. Dean just shrugged. He leant back and tried to relax. He still had four more hours to drive. He sighed. The new leather seats were comfortable. Wait. Why did he have new car seats?

…

That evening, Sam and Dean had a few drinks in a bar, celebrating a job well done.

In New Orleans, another pair of brothers did the same.


End file.
